Breaking Point
by CarrotMuffin
Summary: Nick reaches his breaking point without knowing why, and Greg is left to deal with the consequences of his lover's actions.
1. Not what he expected

Ciao everyone! This is my first multi-chapter CSI fic, so please, be gentle if you feel the need to tell me it sucks.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, or anything affiliated with it…I barely own the plot for this fic, as it was most likely cooked up due to the influence of all of the other CSI fics out there, and everything else in my life…and I'm not going to add a disclaimer at the beginning of every chapter, so what I say here goes for this entire fic. Thank you!

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Chapter I: Not what he expected…

"Listen, I said things- Oh God! I wouldn't take me back after that, Cath! I said _horrible_ things to him. I hurt him- I _hit_ him!! Jesus, Catherine, just shoot me for fuck's sake! I don't know if I can live with myself after that, I don't think I deserve to…I don't think he thinks so either…"

"Nicky, this isn't me saying that what you did, whatever it was, was ok, but stuff like this, it happens. You screwed up, you screwed up big time-"

"No, Cath. Screwing up means that you can…that it's possible for you to undo the damage that you've done. I can't undo this. You weren't there, you didn't see, you didn't _hear_, it was awful…I was a…a monster!"

"Tell me, Nicky, tell me what happened. I won't judge, I'm just trying to figure things out, fix this because what you two have is good-" Nick opened his mouth as if to interrupt. "Yes, _have_ Nicky. I may be the only one here to know about you two so far, but even the others see how perfect you guys are for each other. I'm not giving up on the two of you, alright? So spill."

Nick shook his head, but a glimmer of hope had appeared in his eyes, and he began telling his tale.

_The sun had only just risen. It was that perfect time of day when the life of the sun was beginning to crackle in the air and the coveting blanket of night had only just been removed from the city. The best of both worlds come together as one, and certainly the best for a man happily humming a rhythmic tune as he turned his key in his condo's front door's lock. _

_He was obviously impatient and eager to get inside, if the way he was attempting to push the door open at the same time as he turned the knob was anything to go by. Mistress Moon only had a few more minutes before her sister Sun would take over her watch of the world, and she took the time she had to look down upon the small neighbourhood in the city of sin. She decided then that she would pay special attention to it this morning. Perhaps she would even shed a few tears for the young man whom she felt was about to shed many more. Then again, perhaps she would not. She rarely ever did._

_She was usually reluctant to enter the domains of the humans she watched over, but she would make an exception for this one, exceptional creature. It was all she could do._

_She watched through the moonbeams that she let slide through the cracks in the curtains covering the windows. In the light cast by the strategically placed lamps, the man's features were much more discernable. Mismatched socks-one stripped purple and green, the other a plain uniform grey- covered angular feet that led to knobbly ankles, skin stretched tightly over bone, hiding none of the movements beneath. Denim clad legs- long, seemingly endless showed the way to slim hip and the place where the denim was swallowed by the softer fabric of a cotton shirt. Black in shade, colour splashed across the front, it hung loose on his frame. Two long, thin arms swung back and forth alongside his body, his flesh even more pale next to the dark of the t-shirt. _

_Full pink lips parted for his lungs to take a deep breath. His face pulled into a grimace as he pushed the air into his cheeks before letting it out completely. His large, deep brown eyes showed a strange kind of hope mixed with disappointment, as if what he had found behind the door that he had been so eager to open had not been what he had expected. _

_Nevertheless, a smile formed itself on the brunette's lips, reaching up to make his eyes sparkle. He took a step towards the hallway to his left but stopped as another man stepped out. His smile grew._

_The other man also had a mop of messy brown hair on his head and a pair of dark brown eyes, but their similarities stopped there. He had naturally tanned skin and a heavier build than the other, and though his legs lacked the illusion that they went on indefinitely, he stood a good few inches taller than his companion. He was not smiling, but that did nothing to dim the brilliant grin on shorter man's face. What did however wipe the sign of happiness right off of his lips was the step backwards into the shadows of the halls he took that matched his own step foreword. _

_A look of curiosity pushed his right eyebrow to a high point on his forehead, drew his nostrils together, and curled his lips slightly upwards. "Don't worry, Nicky, I didn't have the pleasure of diving through any dumpsters today, or sewers for that matter. I smell a-ok…"_

_He only began to worry when Nick took another step backwards without him having moved. "Nick?" _

_His whole demeanour changed immediately. Of their own accord, his arms spread to his sides, exposing the most vulnerable parts of his body- wrists, neck and chest. His already large eyes grew impossibly larger in opposition to his shoulders that hunched inwards in an attempt to appear smaller, less threatening. _

"_Nicky, baby, what's wrong? What do you need?"_

_The shaded man did not move, did not speak. _

"_Nicky, please tell me what's wrong? Let me see you, let me hold you…" Nick only took another step back. "Please, babe, anything you need, I'll get it, what's wrong, love?"_

_Something was horribly wrong; the younger one could taste it in the air he was taking in with purposefully slow breaths. The feeling multiplied when the taller man finally spoke. "Greg…"_

_His voice was that of a broken man, a desperate man. Greg took a step toward his lover, but stopped abruptly when Nick called out, "No! Don't-" He broke off._

"_Nicky, honey, you're starting to scare me. Let me take care of you, I'll always take care of you, so long as you let me-"_

"_Well, maybe I don't want to let you." Nick snarled cruelly. The smaller man hesitated at his tone, but if he was angry or scared, he hid it well. _

"_Alright, if you don't want my to know what's going on, that's ok, I'll just call Sara- or Warrick if you'd prefer-"_

"_You don't get it, do you? Fuck, I was hoping you'd get it without me having to spell it out for you, but you just have to be as fucking stupid as everyone says you are. You're fucking useless, you know that? The only thing you were even remotely good at was letting me fuck you, but now that's getting kind of boring too, so you're not even good for than anymore." Nick was breathing heavily, like a raging bull._

_Greg's throat had closed up with the effort of holding back his tears, and he barely managed to choke out in a pleading voice, "Nicky, God, where is- what happened? Where is all of this coming from?"_

"_You! This is all coming from you! It's your fault, you caused everything to go bad, everything is fucked up now and it's your fucking fault. I wish I had never met you!"_

_He had never felt so much pain before. He felt like his heart was seconds away from imploding from all of the pressure Nick was putting on it, and there was nothing he could do other than stare dumbly up at his lover's livid brown eyes. _

_SLAP!_

_He couldn't breathe. Whether the world had rushed up to meet him, or he had fallen down to crash into it, he was unsure. The only thing he knew for certain was that pain was shooting up his spine from his lower back, and his cheek stung, but not as much as his soul. As his mind fully wrapped itself around what had happened, he began crawling backwards until he reached the wall, only to curl in on himself, blocking Nick off. His forearms were tucked under his neck and pressed into his chest. Gone was that disappointment at not finding what he had hoped for, only to be replaced with something much worse, something he had never thought he would associate with the man he loved. Fear. Pure, unadulterated fear clouded his senses to everything outside Nick._

"_Say something! Don't just fucking sit there and cry, you fag! Explain why you had to fuck things up so bad!"_

_A few mumbled words escaped the human ball, followed by a whimper as Nick kicked him roughly in the shins. "Speak up! I can't hear your pathetic voice, you little shit!"_

"_I LOVE YOU!" Greg screamed. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love y- argh!"_

_Nick had punched him on the head, effectively cutting off his slew of declarations. When he slumped over onto the wall, Nick thought that he had passed out, but the soft shaking of his shoulders betrayed him. The fallen man's muscles were tense as they awaited another blow, but it never came. The door slamming shut was the last thing he heard before darkness engulfed his tired senses._

"Still not going to judge?"

The dry, mirthless humour brought Catherine back to the present.

"No, Nicky, I'm not. Not because I don't think that you deserve it, but because it won't help anything for me to tell you what you already know." She sighed and rubbed her face with the palms of her hands. "I'm just a little…stumped. I…where _did _that come from? 'Cause it sure as Hell didn't come from Greg, he didn't do anything wrong, you _love _him. What happened, what could possibly make you flip out that badly?"

Nick sighed. The one question that was sure to come up just had to be the one he least wanted to answer, and the one he could not get out of his head. "I don't know, Cath." He said softly. "I really don't know. I was fine- I was waiting for him to come home, I _needed_ him to come home to me. And then I saw him, only I didn't- I don't know how to explain. I cracked, but I don't get why, and how I could've said things like that when I didn't mean any of it. How could I hurt the one I love so much?"

Catherine looked into his miserable brown eyes and released the breath she had been holding in a single puff. "And you haven't seen or spoken to him since then?"

Nick shook his head.

"Did you call him when he didn't show up for shift?"

He shook his head again. "I couldn't bring myself to, I know I'm a coward but…what if he'd been angry and screamed at me, or worse, what if he'd been crying? I can't deal with that…I got Warrick to call, but no one picked up."

Catherine stood up. "Alright, Nicky. You're lucky that this is such a phenomenally slow night. I'll tell Griss that we'll be gone for the next few hours and that he can call my cell if anything comes up. We are going to Greg's apartment and you two are going to have a talk, but if you do _anything_ other than apologize your guts out, I'm dragging your sorry ass back to the lab for Warrick to beat up. Actually I'm thinking of doing that anyway, but…let's let Greg decide for that…"

As Nick slipped on his jacket, a shudder wracked his frame. All he could see was Greg, curled up tightly to protect himself from the onslaught of hate coming from the one who should have been showering him with love, leaning against the wall, tears running down his smooth cheeks, empty eyes staring up at his lover.

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Hey! I hope that everyone like it! Please leave me a review, if only to tell me whether or not you think it's worth continuing. Thank you all for reading! 


	2. Chapter 2

Hello all

Hello all! Umm…I know I answered some of the reviews already, but I decided that I want to answer them within my chapters from now on, so I guess I'll just re-answer them…

**Seether79: I hope that you enjoy this chapter as much as the last, and that it lives up to its predecessor in terms of 'intenseness'!!**

**Mary Jo: Please don't be disappointed! Don't worry, so long as you ask for updates, I'll give 'em to ya!**

**Cutiepie2191: Wasn't he though!! I almost couldn't make him do it cause they're just SO cute together, that the thought of one hurting the other is unimaginable. Thanks!**

**Katie: Well, that's the question, now isn't it? Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough. Thanks for the review!**

Many thanks to anyone else who read this story; I hope you're enjoying it too! And now, on to chapter two…

Chapter 2:

The world outside the window was blurred, but if it was because of the speed at which Catherine was driving, or the tears building in his eyes, Nick neither knew nor cared. His body lurched sideways as the blonde directed the car into Greg's apartment complex's parking lot, and again as she parked in a spot labelled 'visitor'. It hurt to think of himself of a visitor in the place that he had begun to consider his home, but he knew he deserved the feeling.

The dread that had begun to pool in his stomach when Catherine had first announced her plan increased tenfold. As they climbed the steps leading to the entrance of the building, Nick could not help but feel like a condemned man being led to court to have the extent of his sentence read to him. He felt like a common criminal, and the thought chilled him to the bone. He was no better than some of the people he put away, no better than the bastards that had hurt his lover when he had risked his life to save another's. He stopped dead in his tracks, the bitter irony of it all hitting him like a ton of bricks to the chest. It wasn't that he was no better. He was exactly the same as those disgusting excuses for human beings- _Pig, indeed_.

"Nick…"

Catherine's voice brought him out of his musings. He nodded and followed her into the building, producing his set of keys and picking one out of the many to fit the lock. They rode up to the fourth floor in silence, the tension already thick in the air and not lending any aid to the Texan's nerves.

The happy chime announced their arrival to the right floor, shortly followed by the silver doors sliding open to reveal a poorly lit hallway. Judging by the silence, it was clear that Greg was the only one on his floor- perhaps even the whole building- who worked nights.

Nick led the way down the corridor, coming to stop in front of a white door numbered _424_. Taking his keys out of his pocket once more, he stopped before sliding the appropriate one into the knob and looked up at Catherine, uncertainty written clearly on his features.

"What if I'm not welcome to walk in unannounced anymore?"

A look of sympathy flitted across her face, and she took the keys from his hand.

"It's okay, Nicky. I'll do it. Things will be…okay…"

She turned the key in the lock, but no sound of it giving reached their ears. She turned to him sheepishly. "I think it's unlocked."

The door swung open to reveal a familiar wooden floor, covered partially by a doormat which exclaimed a welcome in warm brown letters. The lighting was the same as when Nick had left not twenty four hours beforehand; the lamp off in the corner of the entrance hall was the only source of light.

"Greg?" Catherine called out. "Sorry for dropping in like this. Can we talk?"

There was no answer. It was only then that they moved farther into the apartment, closing the door behind them. "Greg, are you here? You're door was unlocked. You didn't show up for shift, so we were worri-"

She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the far wall opposite the hallway. There was Greg, just as she had imagined him to be when Nick had told her his story. He was curled up into a foetal position, pressed against the wall. No tears were falling from his eyes, but there were still visible tracks, showing where they had passed not too long before.

Catherine glanced at Nick. He was standing beside her, his mouth slightly agape, a grimace of anguish morphing his handsome features. She moved toward the prone younger man, but Nick moved faster.

"Greg, I-" He bit his lip. "I'm so sorry for what I did, and what I said. I love you so much…"

Greg didn't move, didn't look up. It was as if he didn't even know that there were people in his house. _But that's impossible, he's blinking. He's not asleep._

The Texan moved cautiously closer to the unresponsive man, afraid that he would flinch away from his touch, but Greg didn't even react when a hand passed before his glassy eyes to brush a strand of hair aside.

"Nick, I think we should get him into a different position, maybe put him in bed or on the couch or something."

He had forgotten about Catherine's presence, but she held a valid point. Reaching under his lover to hook his arms beneath his arms and knees, he lifted him to his chest and held him there tightly.

"I'm going to call Grissom, see what's up. You take him to bed."

Not bothering to answer, Nick left her in the entrance and carried his boyfriend to the bedroom down the hall. Having lain Greg down over the covers, he ran his fingers through the accessible brown curls and over the pale cheeks, removing the traces of the tears. He didn't know what to say, but the silence was eating at his heart.

"Greg? Please…I know that you must be…so angry, and so hurt. I-" He broke off. Greg wasn't listening.

Nick got up from his spot beside the bed and looked at his love's face. Brown eyes were open but vacant, a shadow of life lingering behind the dull irises. He was blinking so very slowly. The sharp bone forming the narrow slant of his nose led to full pink lips. Lips that Nick would have sworn were moving ever so slightly, but before he could think on it further, Catherine entered the room.

"Alright, Griss put him in sick so that Ecklie doesn't chew him out later. Nothing's come up, so as long as we don't have any open cases at the moment, we can stay. How's Greg?"

Nick shook his head. "I've got that B&E in Henderson. I…don't care. I'm not leaving Cath. I'm not leaving until Greg reacts to me. If he wants to Griss can fire me-"

"No one's getting fired, especially not for this. I'll cover for you in Henderson. There's really not much I can do here anyway. You stay with Greg, and I'll swing by after shift to see if everything's ok. Ok?"

"Yeah. Wait- here, take the key so you don't have to call up and everything." He handed her his keychain.

"Thanks. Take care of him."

"I promise. Thanks for this Cath…I owe you a million."

"Why do you think I'm doing this, cowboy? I'm just waiting for you to pay up!"

Nick smiled. Catherine was the only person he knew who could be sarcastic at a time like that. By the time the Texan had settled himself down next to his traumatized lover, the door had already clicked shut. Catherine was gone.

He wanted to feel the younger one burrow down into his arms and rub his face into his chest. He yearned to lean the side of his head against Greg's, inhale the sweet scent of his shampoo, run his hands down his sides and feel him shudder in response, but fear held him back. Fear of causing more pain coursed through his veins, overshadowing his selfish fear of rejection.

As strongly as he was driven to remain awake for the Californian, the feel of his body pressed up against his own and the steady rhythmic rising and falling of his chest lulled him into a deep sleep.

He was dreaming. He knew he was. He had to be. He was way above the world, flying through the clouds though he had no wings, looking down on the Earth. But no- he wasn't flying anymore. He was freefalling, and it didn't feel like he was dreaming anymore. The panic seemed too real as it built in his throat, clogging his airway. The ground was coming up fast, too fast. He closed his eyes tight, but the impact never came.

When he opened his eyes once more, he was staring at an off white ceiling. He drew in a deep breath to calm his nerves and wildly beating heart and looked over at the body in his arms.

Blank brown eyes stared back at him. It was clear that he had been the only one to get any sleep. He swallowed roughly and broke the unnerving silence.

"Hey. I…Are you hungry?"

Greg blinked lethargically, but made no move to answer or show that he had heard Nick at all.

"Greg?"

He waved his hand before his eyes. Nothing. He softly shook younger man's shoulder. Still nothing. Panic began welling up inside him as a mirror to the feeling in his dream, accompanied by an irrepressible sensation of helplessness.

Struck by a flash of inspiration, he leaned toward his lover, pressed his lips to his forehead and whispered, _I love you_, before making his way to the kitchen. He moved without paying much attention to his surroundings, lost in thought and long since used to the small room and its appliances.

Barely five minutes later, he was retracing his steps to back to the bedroom, a steaming mug of instant coffee held between the palms of his surprisingly steady hands. It definitely wasn't the best coffee he had at his disposal, but as eager as he was to get back to his lover, he wasn't sure the he would be able to wait the necessary time for the brown liquid to drain.

Kicking the door shut, he called out to the figure still immobile on the bed. "Greg. I got you some coffee. Come on, this isn't good for you. You need to eat and drink, and then get some actual sleep. Then we need to talk. I owe you the hugest apology ever, and an explanation. See, the thing is, I don't _know_ what happened, or why, but I am so sorry…Greg?"

The smell of coffee wafted through the room, but whatever hopes in causing a reaction Nick had had was in vain. Greg did not even blink. He set the mug down on the nightstand and wrapped his arms around the thin, unprotected torso, pulling it against his own.

"Why are you doing this to me, Greg? I know I hurt you, I broke you, but I'm trying to fix it. Why won't you let me fix it?" The Texan had begun to cry. "I just want to make it ok again. I want to prove to you that I love you, that I didn't mean any of what I said, least of all what I did. I'm an asshole, a bastard for what I did to you, and I don't deserve for you to give me the time to explain, I don't deserve your forgiveness, so I won't ask for it. Not yet. But you need to let me take care of you. Because even though I know I don't deserve another chance with your heart, you still have mine. And I know I'm selfish, but I need you to take care of yourself, cause when you don't, my heart suffers, cause you're my heart, and I'm not…I can't…"

Small drops had soaked a strange pattern into the fabric of his shirt as they dropped steadily from his chin. Greg stared on into space, unaware of the harsh shaking of his own body, unaware of arms wound around him in a vice-grip, unaware of the hot puffs of breath gently tickling his neck as the man he loved cried himself to sleep above him.

TBC.

Ok, that took way too long for me to update (didn't it, oh hubby of mine?), but I don't want to promise that the next chapter will be up in less time, cause I might just have to break it…but I will try my very hardest to have it up soon. So I hope you liked it, and the continuation should be up in…not too long.

Ciao,

Muffin


	3. Chapter 3

Aww

Aww! Well, I just updated, but I'm motivated to at least start typing chapter three. Your reviews mean so much to me!!

Mary Jo: thank you so much!! I read your review and my heart melted. So I'm trying to update faster…yes, you caught me! I'm greedy for attention!

Cutie Pie 2191: well, I think that if I follow the basic outlines for ANY Greg/Nick story, I just can't keep them apart, and besides…it was hard enough to write Nick being an asshole to Greg, I can't add insult to injury (literally) by keeping them separated! Thanks for the review!

Also, I'd like to say 'hi' to everyone reading but not reviewing. I hope you are all enjoying it! And now, without further ado…on to chapter three.

Chapter III:

The first thing Nick thought when he woke to the feeling of his cell phone vibrating in his pocket was that Grissom was going to kill him for skipping out on work. Then he remembered that he had been granted permission to do it. Looking at the name displayed on the small rectangular screen, he frowned.

"Catherine?"

"Hey, Nicky! How's Greg?"

"Well…uh…he's, I don't really know how to describe it. It's like he's catatonic, or something…I haven't tried speaking to him yet this morning, but he wasn't reacting to anything last night- look, why don't you just come over and see him yourself? I don't know what to do, Cath." He finished in a near whisper.

"Good idea, Nicky." She paused. "Now if you would be so kind as to open the door…"

It took a while for the full meaning of her words to register in his sleep-ridden mind. Shaking his head, he shut his phone and walked to the front door. It creaked lightly as it swung open to reveal a tired looking blonde.

"Long time, no see, Tex."

He snorted in response before backing up and granting her entrance to the sleepy apartment. She followed him down the hallway leading to the bedroom, but stopped him from opening the closed door. Placing both her hands on his broad shoulders, she looked him in the eye. The look of concern and motherly love filling her own blue orbs struck a cord deep within the Texan, causing tears to blur his vision.

"You look like Hell, Nick."

A pathetic bark of laughter shook Nick's frame, causing an identical pair of salty drops to slip loose and tumble helplessly down his cheeks, to perch themselves on the brim of his jawbone, dangle for merely a second, then freefall to the carpeted floor. The mirthless exclamation of surprise awoke something within Catherine, causing her perspective of the entire situation to shift.

It was no longer a simple case of Nick screwing up, hurting Greg and then regretting it. She could not simply label them anymore- Nick the one who fucked up, Greg the one fucked over. They had fought before, both had wronged the other- Greg had once thrown out Nick's entire stamp collection without asking what it meant to his boyfriend, Nick had poured all of Greg's hair products down the drain so as to give the empty bottles to Amelia (a four year old girl that lived down the hall and called him 'Uncle Nicky') who had needed them for an art project.

They had screamed and thrown things; cushions usually, occasionally a box of tissues and once a handful of popcorn, and Catherine knew that because they always laughed about it openly afterwards, and bragged about how easily they made up. Once she had even been privy to a detailed description of just _how_ they had made up, not that she cared to bring up that particular memory…

This wasn't it. This wasn't a fight, wasn't something that would be forgotten with a few hours of magnificent sex, would never be laughed about, and probably never mentioned after it was over. Nick had tried to tell her, had known all along exactly how much damage he had caused, and how much he would have to work to get Greg back. Because he _had_ lost him. The proof was in Nick's eyes; he was lost too.

"Uh…Catherine?"

She started out of her reverie only to see that Nick had dried his tears and composed his face into something of a neutral look. Turning around once more, he pushed open the door leading into a dark, cozy bedroom.

Thick dark red curtains covered the wide bay windows, giving the room an unearthly burgundy hue. The furniture was placed along the cream coloured walls (turned pink by the reddish haze) and made of the same mahogany wood. A round carpet marked the centre of the room, directly beneath a large bed, it's puffy red comforter clearly chosen to match the heavy curtains.

"Nice room…" Catherine had never been in it, and understandably so. She was impressed by the younger man's classical taste- then again; Nick had probably been the one to pick it out.

Nick moved toward the bed, or rather toward the lumpy figure concealed within it, of which only a massy head of spiked could be seen. He spoke as he reached his target.

"Greggo? Catherine is here again. Will you speak with her?"

For a single absurd moment, Catherine felt as if she were in an alternate universe in which Greg was some kind of ruler, Nick his obedient subject, and herself a commoner, waiting to speak with his royal highness.

She approached the lethargic man as well, but stopped at the foot of his bed. _Why isn't he moving? Or reacting in any way? Can he?_

"Greg…" She called out. Very bothered by his lack of response, she moved up next to the kneeling Texan and looked at Greg's blank face. "Nick…has he been like this since we got here yesterday?"

"Yeah…I think he's been like this since I left the first time. He hasn't slept, or eaten. Coffee got no reaction either." He nodded to the forgotten mug on the bedside table.

"We need to get him to a doctor, right now." His head snapped up. "This isn't normal, Nicky, and it's scaring me. He needs-" She broke off abruptly. "Is he mumbling?"

Sighing, Nick rose to his feet once more. "I think so, I don't know…what does it matter?"

"It doesn't, I suppose…come on, pick him up, we're taking him to the hospital.

The drive to the hospital was long and silent; the worst kind. Music seemed inappropriate, but neither Catherine nor Nick felt the desire to voice their thoughts and so, silence reigned on. She parked in the 'Short Term' section, pulled the key from the ignition and threw open the driver's side door.

Nick, who had sat in the back with Greg pulled flush against his side, scooped his boyfriend back up in his arms and followed the blond woman to the entrance of the Emergency Room.

Catherine had wanted nothing more than to flash her badge and order a doctor to see to her young friend straight away, and she could tell that Nick agreed, but her unwavering sense of right and wrong forbade her from cutting in front of the dozens of people that needed help just as much, if not more. So they waited, and waited, for three and a half hours, until finally a loud, thunderous voice broke out over the intercom, snappishly calling out: "Greg Sanders, room eight."

They rose quietly so as to not disturb the many people around them. The room that had been prepared for them was down a hallway to their left. It was empty when they first arrived, but a few minutes after, a tall, lean, balding man with a thin face and a wide smile that reminded Catherine of Lindsay's first grade teacher came in through the back door.

"And what can I do for all of you today?"

When Nick didn't raise his head from where it was, looking down at Greg's face, let alone answer the question, Catherine took charge.

"Well, it's a rather long story, but I have no choice but to tell it all. Nick-" She pointed to him. "and Greg-" pointed to him too. "have been a couple for…seven months now."

The doctor's face didn't change. Catherine took that as a good sign and continued. "They don't fight. I mean, sometimes they argue, and sometimes one of them does something stupid that annoys the other, but they don't fight."

At the incredulous expression on his face, she could not help but add, "This is relevant. At least, I'm pretty sure it is…anyways, two months ago, Nick got kidnapped." She paused out of sympathy as her colleague flinched. "I'm not sure if they ever spoke of what happened, but he never talked to anyone at work. He was fine, got his psyche evaluation done, passed it just fine. Then, yesterday morning, they had a fight- well, a one-sided fight. Nick freaked out on Greg, said things he didn't mean, did things that he will never, ever forgive himself for, and left. We work the Graveyard shift, all three of us, and when Greg didn't show up for work, we got worried, and went to his apartment, but when we got there he hadn't moved from the position he had been in when Nick had left, so I told Nick to put him in bed and stay with him while I went back to work. When I got back this morning Nick told me that he hadn't slept, nor had he eaten, and he wasn't reacting to anything, so I told him to pick him up and bring him here, and here we are."

They watched as the muscles in his throat worked to swallow, and as his widened eyes regained their usual size before he spoke. "Well…hum…that's…yeah…" He spluttered out. Then, he coughed to get his speech together and let his professional side take over.

"Alright, if you would just set him down on the bed- hold him up if he needs help, please."

As he took out his equipment from the drawers of the desk beside him and Nick placed his charge sitting up on the bed, he began to talk once again. "When this…argument…occurred, did you ever hit Mr…"

"Sanders" Catherine supplied.

"…Mr. Sanders in the head? Or for that matter, did you notice if he hit his head on anything during the erm…scuffle-"

"Fight." Nick interrupted. "Call it what it was- please…I know what I did, and I know how wrong it was, so just, don't euphemise, it was a fight. And no, I did not hit him in the head, and I'm sure that he didn't hit his head on the wall, or anything else."

The doctor hummed in understanding and asked the Texan. "Would you happen to know if Mr Sanders has ever taken any drugs, or if he would have taken any after your departure?"

"No." Nick said firmly. "He has _never_ taken drugs, he didn't even drink- ever. He hated the thought of not being in control of his faculties…"

He hummed again and- with an instrument that reminded Nick of a possible ALS prototype- he shone a bright light in his young lover's eyes. As he leaned forward to look more closely into the brown orbs, he felt a tiny buff of air against his face. "Is he…mumbling?"

"We think so." Catherine answered. "We aren't really sure, didn't take the time to actually check."

"I think he's saying…" He leaned in close enough that Nick could safely say that they were sharing the same oxygen, and he wasn't exactly sure how comfortable he felt about it, but before he could dwell on it, the doctor spoke again. "'I love you'."

A sickening sensation coiled in the pit of Nick's stomach like a restless snake as he realised what was keeping his lover so out of synch with the outside world. He was caught in the memory of his boyfriend's assault, unable to escape.

" Well, I'm fairly certain that he's physically fine. I'll schedule an CT scan to make sure that his cerebral functions are intact, but apart from that I don't think that there's anything I can do." He paused. "I know I must seem very dismissive, but truth be told, Mr Sanders is showing classic signs of extreme shock- in the general sense of the word. I mean, it's like disbelief pushed to such an extreme that he's stuck inside his head."

He turned to look at Nick before continuing. "The thing is, I think that Mr Sanders will be fine given time, but what I'm most curious about is what brought about this on your part. From what I've understood, you're not a particularly violent man- if at all. Catherine mentioned that you were kidnapped two months ago. Have you spoken to a specialist?"

Nick shifted his eyes to the ground, trapped between relief that Greg was physically all right, but scared about answering the doctor's question. "I had my psych-eval. They cleared me to work-"

"Yes, but not to live outside of work. I have a very close friend, her name is Emily Charles, and she works in a private office. I think that it would help tremendously if you gave this a shot."

The Texan was nervous, but no amount of anxiety would stop him from doing something to help him in his relationship with Greg. "I'll do it. If I could just have her phone number…"

The doctor smiled. "Good, well, here is her card, and I'll just go schedule that scan. You should be out of here in no time!"

Thank you all so much for your patience! I am so sorry that it takes me so long to update- isn't that so, hubby? Anyways, please leave a review, it motivates me to write faster…


	4. Going home

EVERYONE

EVERYONE! (That means you, husband) I am very, very, very, very (times infinity) sorry for the extreeeeemely late update! I know that they've all been this slow and it's not like my chapters are particularly long…anyways, you've caught my drift, I'm sorry, and I'll try to update faster.

Mary Jo: I'm trying to, honestly I am! Your feedback means a lot to me, so it's in my best interest to make you happy, but I can't write when the inspiration isn't there, and I'm really sorry, but it hasn't been around for a little while. It's back though, so I should post chapter five more quickly than the others…hope you're well!!

Cutipie2191: Aww!! Thank you! Your praise makes me very happy indeed! I agree, poor Greg! Why am I doing this to him again?…

APRIL26: I'm not so sure about Greg getting better soon…thanks for the review.

Chapter IV: Going home…

Nick nearly growled aloud when he looked at his watch and the image of the doctor's smiling face swam to the forefront of his mind.

" 'In no time' he says" Nick muttered under his breath. "You'll be out of here in no time at all- no time, my ass."

Looking up he noticed the kid waiting a few seats away staring at him. He offered a small smile before looking away, and shaking his head. Poor kid probable thought he was nuts. He got up to continue his previously abandoned pacing, eager to do something that would occupy him for any given amount of time. When he reached the far wall of the hospital's waiting room, he turned and walked back to his seat.

Three and a half hours. He had been waiting three and a half hours, and he still hadn't seen hair or hide of his lover since they had placed him in a wheelchair and rolled him away, past the swinging doors that he could not cross.

Catherine had left ten minutes after Greg, to go home to check on her daughter who had been due to be home from school shortly thereafter. He had tried to sleep in a surprisingly comfortable padded chair to keep up with his routine, but found that rest would be hard to come by until he learned of his lover's condition.

He felt the emotional fatigue creeping up on him and the hunger gnawing at his stomach, and he knew that he would not be able to keep going for very much longer. He needed some form of peace of mind, but knew that it would not come until he saw Greg- and Greg saw him.

Just as he was getting ready to complain to the receptionist that a simple scan should not be taking so long and that if he didn't get an update on his boyfriend's condition right then and there he was going to scream, the double doors were nudged open by a broad back. In front of the man, slumped over in the seat of an old wheelchair, was his lover- pale, his face just as it had been before he had gone in, but still, indubitably his lover.

And suddenly, it didn't matter that he had been pulling his hair out for the past three and a half hours waiting, because Greg was there and the doctor- now facing him- was smiling so widely that there was no way that anything could be wrong.

"Sorry it took so long. The scans came back clean. There's nothing wrong with him physically- well, apart from the bruises, but there's not much to be done for them, just wait for them to heal. His brain is functioning normally. The best thing for you to do would be to take him home, and care for him as best you can until he begins reacting to things around him. You can hire a private nurse if you want, but I doubt that it'll help. He needs familiarity and love, and time, not some random stranger thrown at him for a reason he can't even comprehend. All right, you ready to go?"

Nick had listened to him attentively and hung onto the doctor's every word. He nodded, but could not tear his gaze away from his lover's face. "Yeah, definitely. I'll take vacation from work or something, Greg's going on medical leave I guess. I'll take care of him…I will…"

He had no idea why he was attempting, rather poorly, to justify himself to the kind doctor, but he did it all the same. After a curt nod and a small parting smile, he left, disappeared behind the dreaded double doors. Nick laid his hands over the handles of Greg's wheelchair and fought the urge to lean forward and nuzzle his face into the top of his head. Instead, he began pushing the sedentary man toward the exit.

Moving automatically, he stopped the chair on wheels, parked it near a clump of its cohorts and picked up the prone man to lean him against his chest and smiled at the receptionist that had unknowingly escaped from a panicked rant. He left briskly, not looking back at the place that had unwittingly been his temporary home for the day.

The cab ride home had been long, and not a little bit awkward, and by the time Nick stumbled out of the vehicle and onto the pavement outside Greg's apartment building, he was sure that he had heard enough songs about long lost love to last him a lifetime. He paid the driver through the passenger side door before returning to the rear to pick up his love.

As he walked the distance to the apartment, Nick couldn't help but notice that though they had left the cab, it had not entirely left them. The rank odour of stale cigarettes and too many years without a wash clung to the two men, and the sad, soulful chords of some band or another's lament to love echoed in the back of his skull. A shower was definitely in order, but so was food. Neither men had eaten in what felt like a week, but in reality was two days, and though Nick had had coffee at work, then again at the hospital, Greg had not had anything to drink in that time period either.

The sound of the key sliding into the lock tore Nick from his trance. He briefly wondered how he had gotten to the door without noticing, but pushed all thought not concerning Greg and getting him healthy from his mind. The apartment felt quiet, as if the deafening silence that had followed their fight, when Nick had stormed out, had been impregnated into the very walls of their home. Shaking his head, Nick walked over the threshold and placed Greg on the couch. Then, he made his way to the stereo, turning it on to dispel the silence that hung around him and the blues that hung inside.

A quick look into the refrigerator reduced his plans for their supper to a minimum of chicken soup, chicken sandwiches, or just plain chicken. Deciding not to shock his fragile lover's system with anything too solid, he opted for the soup, taking out a couple of carrots and a stick of celery to go with it.

Half an hour later, the smell of simmering broth wafted through the doorway separating the kitchen from the living room and delicately tickled the prone man's nose. Had Nick been there and not standing over the pot containing the golden liquid, he would have noticed a subtle change in the younger man's breathing pattern- a deep breath of recognition disrupted the flow of air entering his lungs. But as quickly as it changed, his breathing returned to its previous slow, even rhythm, just in time for the Texan to enter the room carrying two mugs of soup, the tops of which were covered by twin trails of thick steam.

He set them both down on the low table that usually served as a resting ground for their weary feet and leaned in to pull Greg up into a sitting position, propping the couch cushions behind him to keep the man upright. Then, he sat down directly beside him and spoke softly into his ear.

"Greg…I know that you probably aren't feeling very hungry, but you have to eat, ok? Will you eat for me?"

When he got no reaction, he pressed a kiss to his loved one's temple before setting himself down on his knees in front of him and picking up one of the mugs. He blew the steam off of the top and dipped a spoon into the mixture.

"Come on, G, open up, you gotta eat."

The elder man nudged the other's closed lips with the spoon, and, as if Greg's body were agreeing with Nick even though his mind wasn't, they opened to let the now warm liquid pour down his throat.

Little by little, spoonful by spoonful, the bowl emptied, until at last Nick felt the utensil hit the bottom meeting no interference. He set the mug back down on the table in exchange for the full one, which he drank twice as fast as he would have under any other circumstances. The cool liquid did next to nothing to satisfy his hunger, but he was too far beyond tired to care.

The short walk to the bedroom was hasty and unsteady, and by the time they actually reached the bed Nick was sure he was sporting at least two new bruises. Not bothering with the removal of clothes, he lifted the heavy comforter and slipped both of their tired bodies underneath it. As he drifted off to an impenetrable slumber, Nick could have sworn that he felt a familiar pressure nestle into his side and two long arms wrap themselves around his waist.

Sorry that was so short, I separated chapter four into two chapters, the second part of which is going to be chapter five, so that I could update before the next ice age comes along… hoping everyone is well,

Muffin.


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, it's official. Updating regularly and on time is definitely something I need to work on. 

mafiaprincessa.k.a. alisa: Well, I'd say that Nick definitely has it in him to get through to the one he loves. Otherwise the story would be pretty hopeless, and I just couldn't do that to them! Thanks for the review! Means a lot to me…

CutiePie2191: Awww! Thanks! I'm not so sure it was great, but at any rate I'm pretty sure it was better than the upcoming one. I must say, I'm really not satisfied with it, but we'll see…

So! I know I don't usually _do_ dedications, but this chapter is for my wonderful husband, who sticks by me even though I'm a controlling bitch, and motivates me to write when nothing else does. Thank you for everything!

* * *

Chapter V: 

A heavy warmth covered Nick's entire body. He pulled his comforter tighter around himself and nuzzled his cheek into it. He felt his body fight to return to the land of dreams, but his mind had already begun awakening and registering his surroundings. A frown appeared on his brow as a multitude of thoughts zoomed around the forefront of his mind.

Since when did his comforter have hair…and- a _heartbeat_? His eyes opening of their own accord, the Texan came face to face with a familiar sight. 

In his sleep, his body had reacted as it normally did, and he had pulled the younger man onto him- manoeuvred him to serve as a personal heater, their duvet lying in a heap at the foot of the bed.

Guilt quickly began infiltrating Nick's sleepy mind- after having hurt him so badly, what right could he possible have to hold him like he used to? When Greg got better, he wouldn't want to have anything to do with the other man, and he owed it to him to give him his space, and not take advantage of him. 

Heaving the sigh of a man on the brink of destruction, he gently rolled the sleeping man onto the bad and forced his stiff legs to carry him to the kitchen. The click of the coffee machine's 'on' button acted as a bell to one of Pavlov's dogs, and Nick immediately began to salivate at the thought of the steaming hit liquid cascading down his throat. As he watched the coffee begin to pool at the bottom of the pot, transfixed by the steady drizzle, the vague sound of something buzzing near-by reached his ears. He had left his phone in his jacked, slung over the back of the couch.

"Stokes."

"Nick, it's Grissom."

The Texan's stomach dropped. He wasn't ready for this.

"H-hey, Griss, uh- what's up?"

"Shouldn't _I_ be the one asking _you _that?"

"Wh-what?"

"Where have you been for the past two days, Nick? If you need time off, tell me, but I need you to keep me in the loop and tell me what's going on. And I definitely need to know how _Greg Sanders_ fits into all of this."

"Heh, G-Greg Sanders? I…uh, I…"

"I know you came back to work early, and I should have called you on it, made you take more time off, but I was just so happy- so proud to see you back on your feet and-"

"Griss?" Nick swallowed loudly. "I'm gay."

Grissom paused just long enough for Nick to doubt a forthcoming response, and a desperate feeling began gnawing at his gut. "Griss?"

"Alright…now, don't take this as a dismissal or something- there's nothing wrong with being gay, it's not that at all, it's just- what does that have to do with anything? What's the link between that and your disappearing act?"

"Alright! That's it? That's all you have to say? I mean, good- great! Yes, great, I, er…yeah, it has everything to do with, well, everything." He took a deep breath and plunged into a proverbial abyss. "So, I've been seeing Greg for around six months now- a little more than that actually- and I swear he made me so happy all the time. He actually asked me to move in with him, and I said yes, I just haven't sold my apartment yet- not because I don't want to…I don't know why, actually. And then I got kidnapped and fucking buried alive and when I left the hospital he took such good care of me- I can't even describe. Only, I don't know, part of me didn't get better and I didn't listen to it and now I'm fucked up and-"

"Breathe, Nicky!" Grissom interrupted harshly.

Huge gulps of air filled his lungs so suddenly that his head began to spin. As he did what he was told, his mentor continued. "You're not making _any_ sense. Explain the end to me- what the heck do you mean by 'fucked up'? Are you having nightmares?"

Hearing Grissom echo his cuss word almost made the Texan laugh.

"You know when Catherine told you it was a slow night and Greg hadn't shown up for work so we were going to his apartment to check on him?"

"Yeah, and he hasn't shown up since. Is he with you?"

"Sort of, just let me explain. I was worried because I already knew what was wrong, why he hadn't shown up, I just didn't know how extensive the damage was. I told Catherine because she's the only one who knew about the two of us. We had a, well I'm not really sure what it was. I freaked out on him- hurt him, I-"

"You _what_?"

"I hurt him," he managed to choke out though his throat was constricted with the effort to hold back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. "I screamed, and I- I hit him, and I don't know why, Griss, I don't know _why_…"

"It's- it will be ok, Nick. Tell me what happened after. You and Cath went to check on him, then what?"

"He was exactly- I mean _exactly_ the same as when I'd left him. It was horrible…I was so scared. He was on the living room floor, curled up against the wall, and his eyes- they were so empty. Cath called you, I put him to bed, I thought she had explained everything to you. She said she'd take over my case, so I stayed with him.  
The next morning when I woke up he still wasn't reacting- 'cause that's how he was when we found him. He wasn't responding to anything. So Cath and I took him to the hospital, doctor took him for brain scans, which came back clean. He said that it was probably just a matter of time before he's ok, and he gave me a psych's number, said that he strongly suggested I speak with her. And when we got home I got him to eat some soup, and we went to bed and now I've just woken up. So yeah…that's it."

He heard the other man sigh. "That's quite a dilemma you've got, Nicky, and you need to figure it out. If there's nothing that the doctor can do for Greg, then it's really up to you. And you do need to call this psychiatrist, I'm not ordering you as your supervisor, I'm ordering you as your friend. I'm giving you vacation for the next week, and Greg's going on medical leave. We'll take it one week at a time, alright?"

"Yeah, Griss, thanks…"

"And I'd like to see him, if I may."

"Yeah."

"Now rest a little, I know that this can't be easy for you. Have breakfast, and I'll call again later before coming over."

"M'kay Griss. Bye."

Not waiting for his boss' reply, he put the phone back on its cradle. He knew that a light feeling should be filling his veins at the thought that Gil Grissom, his mentor, his father figure, had accepted him for who and what he was, but all he could feel was dread.

A loud beep made him jump slightly. The coffee had finished brewing, but he no longer felt the same desire for it. Had it really taken so little time to recount everything to the nightshift supervisor? Ten minutes to explain what felt like ten months…

Moving mechanically, Nick took two mugs down from the cupboard over the sink and filled them with the brown liquid. Taking a spoon before he left, he made his way back to the bedroom to awaken his prince charming. 

As he watched a pair of soft honey irises open simultaneously, a warmth that he found he had not felt for months overtook his being. As a pair of soft, white nostrils flared at the familiar scent of Blue Hawaiian, he found he could finally breathe again. But, best of all by far, as he watched the corners of rose petal pink lips tilt upwards in a sleepy smile, Nick felt his heart explode with joy so strong he thought he might actually cry out. 

* * *

Sorry that so much of this chapter is dialogue, but I had to fit it in somewhere. I hope you all enjoyed it and want to leave a review? rattles empty review tin in the hopes that someone donates

Hugs guys! Have great days/nights/evenings/weeks/-insert your own-


	6. Chapter 6

Ok! This might be the quickest I've ever updated…and it wasn't even by choice. My husband made me, well, not really. She got a REALLY good grade on a math exam (hate math…) and I was so proud of her that I promised I would update tonight. So I am.

Anyways, this chapter is therefore dedicated to math tests and the spelling of the word 'forward' which I will never mix up with 'foreword' again…no, that was not supposed to make sense to more than one person.

So, enough boring chitchat, and onto what you're really here for! Review answers!! (haha…)

Jellycream: I love your penname…it's so very random! Anyways, you get feedback and answers to review questions and sneak peeks at the chapters all the time, so I don't think this is really necessary, but meh, it's fun. I'm really glad you like my writing, cause otherwise you'd be so bored all the time (cause let's face it, I'd still make you read and comment and pretend to be interested…).

mafiaprincessa.k.a. alias: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Sorry for the slow updates, hopefully they'll speed up soon! And yeah, you're right, Greg is slowly coming around. I think I want him to- WAIT! I can't spoil it! Silly me…he he he, you'll see. I pretty much have it all planned out now. Hope you like the newest addition!

Inseer: I'm really happy that you like the plot, 'cause I wasn't so sure about it working and all. I'm very happy that you like it!!

QueenOfTheUniverse: Oh. My. Dear. Lord. I cannot believe you actually reviewed this!! I am in love with your fics, but I was always so embarrassed by my lack of real writing skill that I never reviewed your stories. Ghost what amazing! So well written, I was hanging onto every word until the very end! I almost cried when it was over, just 'cause it was over and there wouldn't be anymore anticipation for the next chapter and all! Well, I hope that my story isn't too bad, even though it kinda pales in comparison to yours, and don't worry, you'll find out what's going to happen to Greg pretty soon!

Cutiepie2191: thanks! Short and sweet, just perfect! I hope you like the new chapter, and hopefully the next one will be up soon enough!

* * *

Chapter VI:

It had been bittersweet to feed his blond companion coffee by the spoonful and tiny bites of buttered toast. He had always loved to nurture his better half, take care of him from sun-up to sun-down, until the other began to complain that being pampered was one thing, but he was not a baby and by no means did he need to remain in bed all day while his lover scurried around the apartment. But to stare into the listless eyes as he gently pushed against his pouted lips with a little piece of crunchy bread had been agony. To watch this most vibrant man having been turned into such a poor imitation of a lifeless shell had reopened the welt that he had made over his own heart, and had only just begun to heal.

He could still feel the jolt of surprise running through his body at the sound of the ringing doorbell. He had almost completely forgotten about the world outside their bedroom, that though everything had been frozen in time for him, the Earth had continued spinning and people had continued living. Calling out to whoever had rung for a minute of patience, he moved the breakfast tray that had previously taken up position on the bed to the kitchen counter before opening the door to let the man in.

Piercing blue eyes met his own shielded brown ones in a moment of silent reprimand, shortly followed by a quick nod. Gil Grissom had moved farther into the home, not bothering to ask for admission. The investigator's eyes swept methodically over the room from wall to wall taking in every detail, every misplaced piece of furniture, askew portrait on the wall, and cataloguing it in a mental evidence sheet.

"That's where you found him?" He had asked the younger man, pointing vaguely toward the far wall.

"Yeah…" Nick's voice had been rough with an emotion that could only be described as most desperate guilt. "Right against the wall, hadn't moved an inch…"

The salt and pepper haired man had exhaled strongly, his nostrils flaring under the pressure. Quiet acceptance filled the room, and though it wasn't forgiveness, or even understanding, Nick felt a small weight lift from his weary heart. "If you want to see him, he's in the bedroom- I just finished giving him breakfast."

Grissom paused to ponder the new information quietly, nodding distractedly all at once. "I would like to…see him, that is. If you're sure it's no-" He broke off. "Will I be trespassing on your space if I do visit him?"

"No, Griss. Actually, I'm kind of hoping it'll help. I mean, he put so much energy into impressing you, who knows- maybe he'll react to your presence over anyone else's. It's right down the hall and to the right- first door. I'm just going to wait out here, if you don't mind."

The nightshift supervisor had nodded once more and made his way to designated room, stopping only once to look over his shoulder before turning the knob and entering the private domain.

As soon as the group's father figure had disappeared into his lover's room, the Texan began fidgeting. He had known what it was that he had to do, had waited for the other man to arrive to do. Heading for the couch, he had reached out a hand to pick up the phone from the side table and dialled a number that had been burnt into his mind from what felt like hours of staring at it on a little white piece of cardboard.

It had rung once. Twice. In the middle of the third ring, someone had picked up. "Doctor Emily Charles' office, how may I help you?"

The cheery voice had been so soothing that Nick almost forgot to answer, and when he had, it had felt clumsy and inarticulate. "Yeah, I- a doctor from the hospital gave me this number. I need an appointment with Dr Charles. As soon as possible, please."

"Well, if by as soon as possible you mean today, that's marvellous because someone just called to cancel their appointment and she's free for an hour in an hour. Would that fit your schedule, Mr…?"

"Stokes. And yeah, that would be perfect."

"Alright, do you need directions on how to get here?"

"No, thank you, the address is on the card. So in an hour?"

"Yes, sir. We'll see you in an hour. Have a nice…hour!"

And he had hung up, just in time for Grissom to walk back into the sitting room, a perplexed frown on his face. "I tried to talk to him, get him to talk back. Nothing. And I _mean_ nothing. Not even a blink. Has he been like that since it happened?"

"Yes. Listen Griss, I need to ask you a favour. I just scheduled an appointment with a psychiatrist, and it's in an hour- amazing, I know. But I really don't want to leave Greg alone right now, and I was wondering if you could possibly…uh…"

"Stay with him?"

"Yeah, stay with him, if it's not too much to ask. I mean, I know it is, but-"

"It's not. I'd be glad to stay with him while you go talk things out."

"Thanks Griss."

He had made a move to hug the man, but held back at the last second, not entirely sure that it was appropriate.

* * *

"So, let me get this straight. You love this man more than you've ever loved anyone in your life. He's the reason you didn't completely lose your mind when you were kidnapped. And you screamed at him, and you don't know why. Is that about it?"

Emily Charles was a middle-aged woman, slim, but not dangerously so, with blond hair and bright green eyes that could spot out a lie before it even passed through your lips. She had sharp, angular features that matched her personality to a tee; they left no room for inane arguments or frivolous comments.

"Yeah, that is about it. And now I'm going to lose him. I need him, and he's going to hate me when he wakes up."

"That's not your choice to make, Nick. If he really is going to hate you, let him be the one to decide that. Don't shoot yourself down before even trying to win him back. And stop making this all about you. You can't expect him to get better if you don't focus more on how this is affecting him, and less on how it has affected you."

As soon as the words left her mouth, he felt himself falling back into his teenage years, and his mother is the one lecturing him about the importance of a good education- all because of one skipped art class. Only that time, he was fully aware that doctor Emily Charles was blowing nothing out of proportion, and if he wanted to make things right between Greg and him, he was going to have to fully understand what he did, not to mention why he did it. And at that moment, he had no clue about either.

"Let's talk more about your experiences at the hands of this Walter Gordon…"

Her words faded into a blur as he lost himself in the memory of his own burial, unaware that he was speaking at the same time. Speaking about things he had not dared to mention to anyone before, speaking of things that he had not dared to think about before. The floodgates had opened, and it was going to take more than simple placations and false sympathies to close them once more.

* * *

Well, that's it! I know it's kinda short, but that's what deadlines do to me. Besides, I don't think it was _that_ bad, I mean, at least it wasn't 99.9 dialogue like last chapter…right?…


	7. Chapter 7

Alright

Alright! I'm back, at last. I'm actually no longer even sure when the last time I updated was, so it must have been WAY too long ago, and I hope that this chapter is enough to make up for the wait. Actually, it's the most boring chapter from now until the end, which is in five chapters after this one (yes, I finally have it all planned out.)

mafiaprincessa.k.a. alisa: yeah, I know how you feel about feeling more sorry for Nick than Greg. I wanted to write it from his perspective cause well, it wouldn't have really worked from Greg's, and cause most stories like this _are_ from the 'victim's' perspective.

Cutiepie2191: I'm really glad that you're liking this fic, and don't worry, he will get better soon.

Jellycream: I didn't make them hug cause it would have been inappropriate, and really, can you imagine _Grissom_ hugging anyone?

Dedication: Welcome home, husband. It's good to have you back!

Blah blah blah, the fic:

Chapter VII:

His shoulders were sagged forward in the age-old position of defeat, but as he crossed the threshold into his home, he felt anything but defeated. Though his mind ached in a way only untold hours of prodding at his psyche could cause, he felt that he had accomplished something- perhaps the first really good thing since he had sent his relationship to Hell in a hand-basket.

Silence reigned in the apartment's still air, occasionally punctured by soft snores coming from the living room. He removed his shoes and left them on the already crowded mat and moved into the centre of his home.

He would never have guessed that Gil Grissom- bugman extraordinaire and their lab's resident heart of stone- slept curled up in a protective ball. Yet there he was, on the wide sofa, burrowed face first into the back of the upholstered piece of furniture. He had clearly not meant to fall asleep, judging by the quilt left on the seat of the neighbouring armchair.

Extreme gratitude filled Nick's being at the sacrifice his friend had made as a favour he felt he didn't deserve, but it was laced with the bitter undercurrent of worry. Moving quickly and as silently as a shadow, he crossed the fairly large room to the hallway and into the dark bedroom.

Amid the many lumps make by the too-large duvet comforter strewn across the bed, he could barely discern a bundle, a little larger than the other, and from which a head-full of brown hair seemed to be growing. The underlying worry evaporated as he watched the man shift in his sleep, breathed a little easier at the sight of the ripples in the sheets made by the steady rising and falling of his chest. A sense of peace came over him in the quiet of the room, only to be broken by a soft cough coming from the door. Grissom had woken up.

"Hey." He whispered, so as to not awaken his sleeping lover, and exited the room in the same stealthy fashion as he had entered it. "How'd it go?"

"Fine, it was very calm." The older man said dryly. "I got him to eat some pieces of apple and small bites of a turkey sandwich. Then I put him in bed because he looked like he was about to fall asleep right at the table." He nodded toward it for emphasis. "How was the appointment?"

Nick snorted. "_Wonderful_! I had a _marvellous_ time…"

Grissom looked at him pointedly over the rim of his steel frames and chastised him with his gaze.

"It wasn't bad, I suppose. She made me tall her everything about- you know- even stuff I haven't told Greg yet. She said it was the most obvious trauma in my life so far that could cause post-traumatic stress disorder, so we're going to, and I quote, 'start there and move slowly to the epicentre of my psyche.'"

His supervisor inclined his head before asking, "And so you have another appointment with her?"

The Texan nodded tiredly. "I have to call Catherine and update her on all this, and ask her to come look after Greg tomorrow."

Grissom nodded and began moving toward the door. "Alright, I'll let you unwind, get some sleep, you look like Hell."

"Thanks Griss, for everything."

"No problem, Pancho, and if you need anything-"

"I know your number."

Grissom nodded and disappeared down the cream coloured hallway, his footsteps muffled by the dark blue carpet covering the floor. The door clicked shut and was pressed to its frame by the Texan's weight as he leaned against it letting the weariness take hold. He pushed himself off to stand up straight and took a deep fortifying breath that got him all the way to his side of the bed where he pulled back the covers, climbed in and promptly fell asleep.

Hours, days, weeks, months or years could have slipped by since the moment he had closed his eyes and he would not- could not- have noticed. All he knew was the bone-deep fatigue he felt that overrode even the warm comfort of the heavy duvet that promised untold hours more of blissful sleep, but he had to get up. He forced his eyes open and glanced past the Californian to the red digital numbers glaring at him in the dark.

12:36

He threw the comforter off of them and wrapped his arms around Greg's waist. Kissing his neck he whispered into his ear. "Morning, G."

He got them up and into the bathroom and started strategising on the not-so-many ways to take a shower while holding Greg up, and opted after a few minutes, for a bath.

His muscles relaxed into the hot water and he could feel Greg's doing the same. A soft mew of contentment reached his ears and it took him a few moments to realise that it had not come from him.

"Greg?" He gasped, looking down at the younger man, his arms tightening around his waist under the water, but there was no answer. The lack of response did nothing to quell the balloon of excitement rising in his chest and warming him to his fingertips. He closed his eyes and joined his lover as they collectively ignored the world as it moved around them.

Hi guys! I know, long time no write, but I'm back on track and should be updating regularly now…I hope you liked the addition, despite its lack of great length. Please R & R!!


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